


Dungeons and Lesbians

by Wryte



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Goblins, Halflings, Light Bondage, Romance, Slice of Life, supportive girlfriends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22891138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wryte/pseuds/Wryte
Summary: A collection of wlw vignettes based on Dungeons & Dragons. Featuring in order of appearance:* Aryll Flynn, the halfling swashbuckler, and Brekkogba Earbite, the goblin beastmaster.
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Aryll & Brekkie: I'm Here

Brekkogba gnawed anxiously on her lip as she watched the little dots of distant humans bustle about the town at the bottom of the hill. Wuzgrugr pawed and snuffled at the earth, shifting her about in the saddle on his back. She was a goblin beastmaster, but she only tamed the wolf a couple weeks ago, and he wasn’t fully trained yet. 

She really wasn’t sure about this. The last time she had been in a human settlement she had come as part of a goblin warband. What had started out as an easy surprise attack had wound up as a massacre when a band of adventurers had shown up a few days later while the goblins were still trying to wait out the remaining villagers in the inn. 

It was all that damn halfling’s fault. A swashbuckler named Aryll had just happened to be passing through when the attack came. If not for her, the warband would have taken the inn the first day. Heck, if not for her, the warband would have added the adventurers to their host of captives. Instead, the entire warband was wiped out. Brekkogba’s worg had been shot right out from under her, and she would have been killed along with the rest of her comrades. 

If not for her. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine!” Aryll whispered in her ear, sending a little electric thrill down Brekkogba’s spine. The halfling was sitting behind her in the saddle, and tightened her arms around Brekkogba’s waist, pulling her closer. She rested her chin on Brekkogba’s shoulder, nuzzling with an affection that turned the goblin’s cheeks from green to violet even when there was no one around to see the public display. “Don’t overthink it, Brekkie. I’m here.”

Brekkie took a deep breath, and as she let it slip through her lips, she leaned back into Aryll’s embrace. Just for a moment. “Alright,” she said, and pressed her legs into Wuzgrugr’s sides, urging him forward.


	2. Aryll & Brekkie: Buy You Something

“Hey! D’you like this?” Aryll chirped, holding up a pale yellow sundress from the market stall they were passing. “It’s so cute, and it’ll go so well with your complexion!” she went on, holding the shoulder up to the bare green skin of Brekkie’s arm. "I’ll buy it for you, if you want.”

Brekkie brushed it away with the hand that wasn’t holding Waffles’ lead. “Not really my style,” she said, and had to watch Aryll dejectedly put the garment back. “What’s with you today?” This was the third random item Aryll had offered to buy for her as they made their way through the city’s market streets. 

“We’ve got a fat payday coming, and it just occurred to me earlier that I’ve never bought you anything,” Aryll said, eyeing a display of brooches.

Brekkie snorted. “What are you talking about? You paid for all my gear, and Waffles’ saddle.”

“Yeah, but that was all junk we needed to adventure together,” the halfling said, waving the rebuttal away. She darted forward to another stall. “Practical stuff. I’ve never just bought you something frivolous.”

Brekkie frowned. “What does that mean?” There were still a lot of gaps in her Common. 

“Pointless, inconsequential, just for fun,” Aryll rattled off casually. “Something you do just ‘cause you want to.”

“I guess I don’t see the point,” she said with a shrug. “You should save your money. I’m already grateful for the practical stuff.”

“It doesn’t have to be something big. The point is just to make you happy. To show you that I’m thinking about you.”

Brekkie blushed and glanced away. “I already know you do that.”

“Yeah, but… I want to prove it.” Aryll came to a stop at an intersection and sighed. The sea breeze coming up the street from the dock district ruffled her ginger hair, the smell of the brine accentuating her air of melancholy. “Alright, you win. I’m gonna go deliver the package. You wanna come?”

Brekkie flashed back to the awkward meeting after the local merchant guild had posted a listing for the recovery of a lost parcel that turned out to have been lost in an ambush… by goblins. “Not really. I’ll meet you back at the inn.”

“Alright. See you soon.” Aryll darted in to give her a quick peck on the cheek, then was soon swallowed by the crowd as she headed off toward the guild hall. 

Brekkie didn’t head straight back. She let Waffles take the lead, wandering after him as the wolf followed his nose through what must be a fascinating infinite knot of new smells for him. They passed from stall to stall, Brekkie’s eyes tracing over the various wares without really absorbing anything over her own meandering thoughts. 

She was never sure how typical Aryll’s romantic gestures were of the so-called “civilized” races, and how much was specific to her. Not that Brekkie hated it or anything, but goblin courtship was pretty utilitarian, and she often felt at a loss to understand why the seemingly most pointle--

\--the most frivolous things mattered so much to her partner. 

Waffles stopped and snuffled vigorously at the foot of a stall. Someone must have spilled food, or another canine had marked it. Waiting for him, her eyes skimmed over the wares on display. 

* * *

Brekkie tucked her hand behind her back when she heard the doorknob of their room rattle. She was sitting on the edge of the bed when Aryll walked in, still carrying the recovered satchel and blowing a raspberry. 

“Hope you had a better afternoon than I did,” the halfling grumbled. “It’s not our fault they didn’t list the contents they wanted back. Like bandits aren’t gonna take stuff out of a package they stole…” She tossed the satchel disdainfully into the corner and threw herself onto the bed, landing with a bounce and an irritable groan. “So what did you do?”

“Well,” Brekkie said, fidgeting with the object in her hand, “I ordered dinner, far starters. Coney stew.”

“Ugh, I love you,” Aryll said from flat on her back, reaching out blindly to brush a hand down Brekkie’s arm. The goblin shuddered and pulled away, slipping off the bed so she could face Aryll. She sat up, watching her quizzically. 

“I uh, was also thinking about what you said, and...” She held out her fist, palm down. Aryll raised an eyebrow, but cupped her hands beneath, and gasped when the little green stone landed. It was just a small, polished moss agate, but Aryll smiled a little smile that said she was simultaneously confused and happy when she caught it, and Brekkie forgot everything she had planned to say. “It’s uh, it’s a Worry Stone. You, like, you rub it when you’re worried about something, or… something, and it takes your mind off it.

“And um, it’s the same color as your eyes.”

Those eyes were sparkling back at her now, her smile spread across her entire face as she clasped the stone to her chest. “I love it,” she said, and wrapped her arms around Brekkie’s neck, pulling her into a kiss. 

Brekkie decided she liked frivolous things after all.


	3. Aryll & Brekkie: Gate

The guards at the gate tensed and readied their weapons as they approached, until Aryll poked her head out from behind Brekkie in Wuzgrugr’s saddle and waved them down. Brekkie slumped and hung her head, staring side-eyed at the ground as the sergeant talked over her head to Aryll. 

“Is, uh, everything under control here?” he grunted. 

“Absolutely!” Aryll chirped, all smiles and sunshine. “Waffles here is exceptionally well behaved.”

“‘Waffles’...?” the guard said. His stance shifted subtly, recentering his weight to the foot opposite his sheathed sword. Brekkie saw his thumb absently stroke the crossguard. 

“My girlfriend’s dog!” Aryll said, emphasizing the second word as she leaned forward to rub Wuzgrugr’s neck. As she did so, the rapier at her side mysteriously slipped a few inches from its scabbard, its shining steel glinting at the guard. “Oops! Clumsy me!” she said, still beaming at everyone as she, for some reason, needed to draw the weapon nearly to half-blade before driving it back into its sheath with a meaningful clack. 

The guard took a swift step back, clearing his throat to cover a little yelp. “Go on in.”

“Thank you so much!”

Brekkie hustled Waffles inside, hands trembling on the reins. Aryll’s left hand snaked down Brekkie’s arm to clasp hers from the back, fingers entwining between Brekkie’s knuckles, steadying her pounding heart. Brekkie let out the breath she had been holding, taking comfort in the warmth of Aryll’s body against her back as the halfling waved to the guards with her sword hand. “Have a safe day!”


	4. Aryll & Brekkie: Snoring

Aryll Flynn lay on her belly, propped up on her elbows with her face cupped in her hands, dreamily watching her girlfriend sleep. Brekkie was sprawled across about three quarters of the bed, which was an impressive feat given that the little inn in the backwater town where they had stayed the night only had human-sized accommodations. She lay on her back, one hand clutching a fistful of sheets to her chest as it gently rose and fell in time with her snoring. Aryll suspected Brekkie would deny that she snored, and was accordingly keeping that little tidbit tucked in her back pocket to tease her about someday in the future, but she found it utterly adorable. 

Brekkie didn’t just snore a little here and there. She didn’t make quiet little snorts or snuffles. She sawed logs all night, mouth gaping open like she was trying to subliminally catch bugs in her sleep. Aryll found the racket soothing, reassuring, because the thing was, she didn’t always do it. It had taken Aryll a few weeks (and a few sleepless nights) to realize the pattern. Brekkie was usually intensely guarded, and her sleep was no different. When they camped in the wilderness, Brekkie’s sleep was silent, light, ready to be broken by the faintest sound or change of atmosphere. It was only when she felt truly secure that Brekkie relaxed enough to fall into the kind of deep sleep where she snored. When Brekkie snored, it meant she felt safe enough to be vulnerable, and as soon as she had realized that, Aryll had fallen in love with the sound. 

The morning light had been creeping up Brekkie’s body inch by inch since Aryll had woken up, and was now caressing the goblin’s nose. Aryll wanted desperately to lean forward and lay a kiss on the pointy protrusion, but she knew Brekkie didn’t like to be touched when she was sleeping. So she just lay there, listening to the faint sounds of the rest of the inn coming to life under the cacophony of Brekkie, and imagining all the things she was going to do to her girlfriend when she awoke. 

\-----

Brekkie groggily blinked at the sunlight that had just very rudely begun jabbing her in the eyes, and sat up with a snort. She smacked her lips a couple times, trying to build up some saliva. For some reason, her mouth was dry in the mornings a lot lately. As the world came into focus around her, her attention was immediately drawn to the sleeping halfling beside her. Aryll was on her belly, one arm awkwardly trapped under her head as if she had fallen asleep leaning up. Brekkie snorted at the other woman’s carefree attitude, and gingerly lifted her head to move the trapped appendage before it also fell asleep. 

She looked to the window, taking a second round with the sun. It looked like late morning. They had slept in far longer than they should. Well, she supposed “should” was only a matter of principle right now. They weren’t on any kind of quest at the moment, and they hadn’t gotten in until so late last night that they’d had to wake the innkeeper up to get a room. And she was still drowsy. 

And Aryll was right there. 

Brekkie scooted a little further down the bed and awkwardly tried to put an arm around Aryll without waking the halfling up. She had barely made contact before Aryll smiled in her sleep and aggressively cuddled up to her, wrapping her arms around her and snuggling her head into the crook of Brekkie’s neck, murmuring, “Kisser sunnose, yoo kyutee.” 

Brekkie sighed contentedly, nuzzled the top of Aryll’s head, and wondered if she knew she talked in her sleep.


	5. Aryll & Brekkie - Something Beautiful

Aryll heaved the body of the unconscious goblin onto the bed with a groan, and resisted the urge to throw herself down next to her. It had been three days since the warband had attacked the little village of Groat, and Aryll, who by chance had been passing through, had rallied the villagers in the inn. She had spent the next three long, sleepless days and nights fending off attempts to break in, of listening to their worgs scratching at the doors, or trying her damnedest to keep up a smile and keep telling the survivors that it was all going to turn out alright. And by some miracle, it had. A group of adventurers had come along, and with their help, the goblins had been defeated. Some driven off, most killed. 

But not this one. Aryll knew the goblins had taken captives, so she’d stopped the adventurers from finishing off the unconscious one she’d found pinned under the body of her felled worg. She was their best chance of finding out where the villagers had been taken. 

This was the room Aryll had rented the night before the attack came, and her rucksack was still sitting in the corner. She dragged herself over to it, ignored the coil of rope that hung off the side, and dug down to the other one in the velvet bag at the bottom of the pack. Her fingers worked through her mental fatigue on sheer muscle memory to tie the knots from the goblin’s wrists and ankles to the bedposts, not helped by the fact that the bed was sized for humans. 

She groped at her waist until her fingers found her last healing potion. Boy, she’d had a lot more of these a few days ago. What quest had she even been on that had brought her through this little podunk town? It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

The thought swam aside like her vision as she climbed onto the bed and uncorked the bottle with her teeth. Cradling the unconscious goblin’s head upright, she parted the goblin’s lips with one hand and brought the potion to them with the other. Like this, it looked like the goblin was just sleeping peacefully, and maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking, but right up close and not trying to kill her, the goblin was actually pretty cute. Even when she sputtered on the potion and jerked awake in a panic. 

“Easy, easy,” Aryll said. She couldn’t understand the literal meaning of the gibberish coming from the goblin’s mouth, but she had more than enough experience to recognize, “Where am I? What happened?” in any language. “It’s okay, I’m hurt gonna not you,” she assured, paused, shook her head, and tried again. “Not gonna hurt you.” She swirled the rest of the potion around the bottle for emphasis. “D’you want the rest of this? I just wanna ask you some question. Questions.”

The goblin twisted her neck to look from the bottle, to Aryll, to her bonds, and grimaced in horror. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Aryll blinked a couple times, trying to focus her vision. Oh, yeah, huh, this probably looked pretty bad from the goblin’s perspective, didn’t it? “I’m not gonna do anythin’ to ya. I jus’ wan’ ya ta answer some questions, and then I’ll lecha go. Now d’you wan’ the resta this, or not?” She shook the bottle again. 

The goblin eyed it suspiciously. “Is this a trick?”

Aryll groaned, and took a swig of the potion herself, reducing both the small amount left in the bottle and a few more of her own lingering wounds. Her head even felt a little clearer for the moment; clear enough to recognize how close she was to falling asleep on the spot, at least. She offered the potion once again. 

The goblin still hesitated for a moment, but finally opened her mouth as if she was the one doing Aryll a favor. Aryll shook her head, and put the bottle to the goblin’s lips. A stray thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t stop herself from vocalizing it. “Heh, indirect kiss.”

The goblin sputtered on the potion. Aryll couldn’t help but giggle. “Careful!” she said. “Don’t choke to death!”

“You can’t choke to death on healing potion, fool,” the goblin said, wiping her mouth on her shoulder and refusing to meet her eyes. So cute…

“Sure y’can, my uncle’s sister-in-law’s neighbor’s… niece? I think? Totally knew a guy once who died that way.” Aryll brought the bottle back to her own lips again. No point letting the last few drops go to waste. When she tilted her head back down, the goblin was blushing furiously. At least, Aryll thought that was blushing. Her cheeks were violet, but with green skin, maybe that was just how goblins did it? 

“What?” she said, wondering why the goblin was staring.

“You just said that was an indirect kiss.”

“I said wha?” Ayrll yawned, rubbing her eyes as her short term memory groped around its bedside table in the dark and found nothing. “Look, you’re cute, but you’re not seducing your way outta this,” she said, plowing right over the goblin’s sputtering protest. “I jus’ wanna know two things. Why’d’ja guys kidnap the villagers, and where’d’ja take ‘em?”

The goblin’s mouth worked up and down, as if chewing on words she couldn’t articulate in her flustered state. 

“Alright,” Aryll sighed, sliding off the bed. Leaning heavily on the corner post for support, she unbuckled her sword belt and tossed it into the corner, then started undoing the fly of her pants. 

“What are you doing?” the goblin asked in a panic.

“Gettin’ ready for bed,” Aryll grumbled. She had gotten her pants down to her knees and hit a brick wall in getting them off, and only now put it together that it was because her calf boots were still fully laced up. “If yer not gonna talk now, then I’m goin’a sleep and we can try this again in th’ mornin’.”

The goblin squeaked anxiously. “An… and what, leave me like this all night?”

Aryll got her first boot off. “Well I can’t exactly take yer word y’won’ run off, now can I?”

“Nyerrrrgh,” the goblin groaned, writhing against her restraints. “Okay, fine! You win!”

Aryll sighed as she finally got the second boot off and her pants along with it, and climbed back onto the bed. Sitting cross-legged with her chin in her hands, she pinched herself on the cheek for a quick booster shot of wakefulness, and tried to focus on the tale being spun. 

By the time the goblin was finished, Aryll’s face was stinging like a hornet’s nest from all the pinching and slapping she’d done to keep herself from simply toppling forward into unconsciousness. Her informant had rambled on and on about a lot of information that Aryll hoped was extraneous, because she’d only managed to absorb the jist of it, which was that a sorceress had recently seized control of her clan by blasting any opposition into cinders, and turned them on the local settlements in search of treasure, slaves, and, for some reason, a dwarf. 

“We’ve got them in a cave a couple miles northeast of here, following the river to a toppled snag, and with all the losses we took in this fight, they’ll probably abandon the prisoners and just retreat. Now let me go!” the goblin finished. 

“Uhkay,” Aryll groaned, teetering forward until she landed on her hands and knees, and crawled over to the bindings around the goblin’s left wrist. “Y’see? I’mma wommun of m’word. Y’r freeta go, but fair warnin’, those ‘venturers are pro’ly still up, an’ I hadta stoppem from killin’ y’ once already.” She reached for the rope and started fiddling with the knot. Crud. Either she’d been too far out of it when she tied it, or she was super far out of it now, because it should have come undone with a single tug. “Bu’ listen, if y’stay th’ night, I’ll gecha outta here in th’ mornin’, and even help y’with yer sorceress problem.” 

The goblin frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“‘cause tha’ witch sounds like a bad time f’r e’eryone ‘round here.” There. She had been tugging on the wrong part of the rope. The knot came undone, freeing the goblin’s wrist. “Y’got m’word. An’ as y’know, I’mma wommun of m’word.” 

That was as far as she could force her beleaguered state of consciousness to keep chugging, and as she collapsed toward the pillow, she was asleep before the end of her last sentence could stumble drunkenly past her lips. 

* * *

Aryll stirred late the next morning to a pounding on her door. One of the adventurers was checking up on her.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she called back, rubbing her eyes with a groan. She felt like she could have slept another day and a half easily. As her lids creaked open, the unexpected feeling her brain had been lagging too hard to identify without visual aid suddenly made sense. The goblin was still there. Not only that, Aryll had apparently cuddled up to her in her sleep, and the goblin’s free hand had wrapped around her back. 

“You stayed,” she yawned happily, as the goblin also stirred awake, realized she’d been caught snuggling, and shyly jerked away. At least, as far as her remaining three bindings let her. 

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” the goblin grumbled, but the way she blushed and wouldn’t look Aryll in the eye made her suspect that the goblin hadn’t made much attempt. “You fell asleep right on top of the only arm you untied.”

“Sorry,” Aryll chuckled. Yeah, that was definitely just an excuse. The goblin was absolutely strong enough to pull her own arm out from under Aryll’s scant 36 pound body. “Let me get those for you.” 

The remaining bonds each came loose with a single tug in the right spot, and the goblin sat up rubbing at her tender wrists and ankles, watching her warily. “So… you’re really gonna help me get rid of the sorceress?”

“Absolutely,” Aryll said, digging a fresh pair of leggings out of her pack while the fragments of last night’s conversation slotted themselves back into her brain. As she shimmied into them, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that while she’d been running the previous three days on no sleep, she’d also been running on only whatever food she could scarf between skirmishes with the raiders. Hopefully someone downstairs had made breakfast by now. “Hey, I’m gonna pop downstairs for a minute. You want some brekkie?”

The goblin frowned in confusion. “Do I want some of what?”

Aryll frowned back. “Brekkie.”

“Yeah, what?” the goblin snapped. 

Delight spread across Aryll’s face as understanding set in. “Wait, is your name, ‘Brekkie’?”

The goblin fidgeted and turned deep violet. “N-no! Of course not! What kind of name is that?”

“Then what is it?” Aryll was beaming.

“...Brekogba.”

By the gods, she was adorable, Aryll thought. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Brekogba.” Aryll knew she was never using that name again. This goblin was 100% Brekkie from now on. “I’m Aryll Flynn.” She offered her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Brekkie took it. 

“Nice to meet you, too, I guess,” Brekkie said, shyly looking toward the window. 

Aryll hummed happily as she left the room and skipped down the stairs. She had a feeling that this was the start of something beautiful.


End file.
